


The Sun is Always Rising

by Actaea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Other, Smoking!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actaea/pseuds/Actaea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans in Heaven were no different from humans on earth, and Judith had been rather spirited in life. In death, one could even say she was more so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun is Always Rising

            An angel of the Lord was not supposed to smoke.

            Castiel took a long drag.

            He savoured the bitter aftertaste like it was something delicious. It was so rare that he was alone – no eyes watching him, no grip on his arm, no hand on his shoulder. He heaved a sigh, watching his exhalation curl away. Where that smoke went, he did not know. And for once, he did not care.

            Dawn was breaking over Judith’s heaven. Hers was one he came to often, hiding himself away in the safety of her crooked porch, her tiny church just out of view from the front of the house.

           The sun was always rising in Judith’s heaven. Light scattered itself through the stain glass window behind him, spreading a kaleidoscope of colours. An onlooker might have described it as a halo surrounding his stiff frame, but they would not know that he had lost his. A cool breeze washed through the pews, swirling up to where he was perched. Weary lines etched themselves into the creases around his eyes, making them permanent.

            He took another drag, the end flaring brightly for a few brief seconds, and he held the smoke in his lungs for too long, trapped it where he could keep it safe until he couldn’t anymore and then he let it go, watching it disappear.

           His eyebrows were furrowed into deep valleys, his mind working furiously - racing, stuttering, stumbling, falling. He sighed; hanging his head and staring at what would have been the death wish in his hand. He tapped it once, twice, watching as the ash melted into the floor. Judith would  _never_  allow cigarettes into a House of the Lord.

            He did not know how long he sat there, trying to think of something that would change everything – and for the better this time, instead of messing everything up like usual. He stared off into nothing, before finally closing his eyes and sighing, scrubbing his hand across his face in an uncharacteristically human gesture. Perhaps he had been spending too much time around humans, perhaps that was the problem.

            Another drag had him reminiscing. His mind meandered down a path he had hoped he had forgotten.

It had begun how all events began. At a truck stop.

            “Wanna smoke?”

            “What?”

            “A  _smoke_ , man.” The bearded fellow had given him a look similar to the one Cas had come to equate with Dean’s  _how could you not know this_.

            “…Yes?” Perhaps it was best to accept this man’s offer.

            “Here.” The man shoved an already lit cigarette into his hand and flipped open a lighter, quickly setting another one aflame. He huffed it out, indelicate and uncaring, staring off behind Castiel’s head before turning to him, raising his eyebrows.

            “Well?”

            He tilted his head at him, like changing the angle would make him understand. A good angel would have turned away, would have thanked the man for his concern, would have told him that he could not possibly smoke. Could not raise that white cylinder to his mouth. Told his that it was  _inconceivable_  that he could wrap his lips around it and inhale slowly. Said sorry, but coughing in surprise of the sharpness of the air entering his body, and  _liking_  it was just absurd. He would have laughed and informed him that he could not take another long pull, could not savour it that time. Would have scoffed at such a ridiculous notion.

            Castiel was not a good angel anymore.

            He had spent so long watching them. He had tried to see what his father had meant, tried to understand what he saw in those creatures. He had spent their entire evolution looking down, searching for the reason his father was so filled with wonder at the puny creatures walking an earth they didn’t seem to deserve.

            He had not even considered how different it would be to walk beside one. To be able to reach out and touch a face, hold a hand, embrace a body - to enfold them in arms that were, perhaps, not his own, but close enough that he could hear their heart beat. That he could feel their breath against his neck, could see their shoulders relax in an almost audible sigh. Their eyelashes brush across his cheek.

            He stubbed out the cigarette, smushing it under his shoe, twisting it until there was nothing but ashes on the floor. And then they, too, were gone. Judith would not be pleased with him. She always seemed to know, too. He allowed himself one brief half-smile. His lips quirked up quickly, and then fell as though they had forgotten how to sustain their happiness. Humans in Heaven were no different from humans on earth, and Judith had been rather spirited in life. In death, one could even say she was more so.

            “Castiel.”

            He jumped, flinging himself around, head whipping. It was not a voice he recognised. An angel he did not know stood before him. Her eyes were puffy, tired from a lack of  _something_. Angels were not supposed to be tired. That is why they were created – they had no wants, no needs.

            “What do you want?” But the stranger just looked at him.

            “Are you going to tell?” If the others found out he had been smoking – he didn’t know exactly what would happen, but he knew it would be bad.

            Silence.

            Finally, she spoke.

            “I heard you fell in love.”

            Castiel was an angel of the Lord. He had perfected the poker face long ago.

            “What of it?”

            The stranger sighed. She sat. She gestured for him to do the same.

            “You tell him?”

            “No.”

            “Why not?”

            “What do you  _want_?”

            “I thought it would go away.”

            “... It fades.”

            "But it doesn't end."

            "No."

            “That’s what I thought.” She studied him with a steady gaze.

            “Wanna smoke?”

            “ _What_?”

            “A  _smoke_ ,” he found himself saying.

            She sighed. He handed her a cigarette. She leaned in to the flame of one of the hundreds of lighters Dean kept in his trunk.

            He watched her exhale, and cough.

            He watched her sink, slowly, into herself.

            She stared off into nothing, the light streaming through the window encasing her in a heavenly glow. Her smoke was tinted with reds and yellows.

                    The sun was setting in Judith’s heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> My beta (no AO3 I can link to, sorry) said that (in her words) 'you think you're so (and here there were some bad words) hilarious, no-one is going to think your stupid little pun is funny' so props to you if you at least smiled a little. We're friends now, whether you like it or not.


End file.
